


Short Little John and Sherlock

by Al_Watsons_Library



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Flashbacks, PTSD, Panic Attacks, comforting friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-29 10:04:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20434046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Al_Watsons_Library/pseuds/Al_Watsons_Library
Summary: Sherlock was bullied a lot as a child. There are a select few who can calm him down from the panic attacks that come from the vivid flashbacks.Molly Hooper tried and succeeded a few times.Mrs. Hudson was a favorite for Sherlock to go to.But John. John was his favorite. Him being Sherlock's best friend.(I really ship Johnlock, but this one's just platonic for now!)





	Short Little John and Sherlock

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FangirlReader221](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FangirlReader221/gifts).

_Breathe. _I tell myself. 

_Just breathe. _That's what my therapist always tells me.

"Just" breathe.

Huh.

Like it's _that _easy. 

Normal people "just breathe." 

I am most certainly not normal. 

I rap my knuckles on the wooden coffee table. 

John sits across from me with his morning cup of coffee in one hand and the morning news in the other. 

The knocking on the table is John and I's way of telling each other if something's up. If we're in a social situation where one of us isn't exactly comfortable, we'll knock on something. That little trick has somehow spread into our private life at home at 221B Baker Street. 

John looks up immediately, worry in his eyes. Of course. 

Selfless idiot. 

I call him that lovingly. 

"Sherlock?" he puts his things down and comes to sit by my side. "Are you ok?"

I shake my head. 

I am most certainly _not _ok. 

"John-" I choke out. It gets hard to speak when you're already having a hard time just getting air into your lungs. I feel like there's something inside my chest, and it's trying very hard to get out, but it's ripping me apart in the process. 

"Sherlock, remember what I told you," John says. "Look at me. We're in the flat. Nothing can get to you, no bombs, no assassins, no Moriarty. Just you, me and Mrs. Hudson."

He doesn't tell me it's gonna be ok. He knows that doesn't work on me. He knows I'll just give him 100 reasons why everything is _not _ok. 

I look at him and to his surprise, I'm sure, give him a giant hug. I'm still not breathing, and the feeling of panic hasn't passed yet, but I know John will be there for me. 

Always. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my very first thing EVER posted on AO3!  
I myself have panic attacks, so I was able to write this.  
Anyway, sorry I'm a bit nervous.  
I apologize if this is terrible!  
-Al W.


End file.
